


Perfect Day

by pluto



Category: Phoenix Wright
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-04
Updated: 2010-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-09 09:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/85858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pluto/pseuds/pluto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Miles Edgeworth neither hates nor loves birthdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Perfect Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [foxysquid](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=foxysquid).



> For Foxysquid: Happy birthday!

Miles Edgeworth neither especially cared for nor especially disliked birthdays. To him, a birthday was simply another day. If others chose to make a grand fuss over such occasions, as long as they did not bother _him_ with their celebrations, that was their prerogative.

The trouble was that his current choice of company seemed to _insist_ on bothering him about birthdays.

Last year had been a particular trial. Phoenix with his utterly transparent attempts to trick Edgeworth into going to a surprise party. Maya Fey and her "festive" redecoration attack on his office. Worst of all, Larry's heinous excuse for a birthday cake.

Which was why, this year, Edgeworth was headed towards a very secret location for the duration of his birthday: the windowless, eternally abandoned slide room at the back of the law library basement. He had made a point of not scheduling any court appearances or witness interviews; he had turned off his cell phone and told the DA's office receptionist to say only that he was engaged in intensive preparation for the big Anderson case Monday. That was not even a lie. He had brought his relevant law books and the court records for the case. He would spend his day there, from dawn to dusk, until he was sure that no well-intentioned well-wishers would be able to ambush him and insist on forcing him to have "a happy birthday."

Edgeworth let himself into the library with his personal key. He had requested one months in advance, so as not to raise any suspicions. The slide room door was partly blocked by a cart of books waiting to be reshelved. Edgeworth was comforted by its presence, a quiet reassurance that no one ever visited the room. Edgeworth left the cart where it was, dodging nimbly around it and slipping into the dusty slide room.

Shutting the door firmly behind himself, he let out a contented sigh and began laying out his books and file folders neatly in one of the slide viewing carrels.

Something thudded to the ground behind him.

Edgeworth spun to see Detective Gumshoe scurrying to his feet behind a row of cabinets, attempting to quietly shove a big box of slides back in place.

"Oh! Hey, p-- Er, I mean, good morning, Mr. Edgeworth, sir!"

The box of slides refused to be elbowed back in place, and tumbled to the floor. Slides scattered everywhere. Gumshoe broke into a sweat and began trying to gather them up.

"Detective Gumshoe," Edgeworth said, overenunciating the man's rank and name, "What, pray tell, are you doing here?"

Gumshoe looked like a dog caught chewing its master's shoe. "Oh, uh, er, looking at slides, sir?"

"Behind the slide cabinets?"

"Um, well." Gumshoe swallowed. "Well--I..."

Edgeworth narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. "You don't have to confess. I can see it written all over your face."

"You can, sir?"

"Yes. I know exactly what you're up to."

Gumshoe cleared his throat nervously. "You do, sir?"

"Who put you up to it? Wright?"

"Put me up to what, sir?"

Edgeworth shook his head. "What am I saying? Of course it was Wright. Don't protect him, detective. You're a public servant--you should be on my side."

"Of course, sir! I am, Mr. Edgeworth, sir!"

"So, then, confess!" Edgeworth jabbed a finger square in the center of Gumshoe's chest.

"But you just said I didn't have to--"

"Confess!" Edgeworth repeated, giving Gumshoe the look he reserved for the worst wrongdoers on the stand, the one that sent even the hardest criminals to their inevitable downfalls.

"All--all right, sir!" Gumshoe blurted. "I've been sleeping down here for a week, sir! My rent's two weeks late and my landlord kept knocking at my door and that mean little dog of his kept growling at me through the window every time I went home, and I just couldn't face him until my next paycheck, sir, so I've been staying here and please don't kick me out!" Gumshoe's lip trembled and his voice wavered.

Edgeworth stared. He felt a faint stirring of emotion inside, something that might have been guilt at bringing Gumshoe so close to the edge of tears.

"So you aren't--" he started to say, and then he thought better of it. Gumshoe did not seem to have the first clue that it was his birthday, and Edgeworth was just fine with that. "I suppose," Edgeworth said, straightening his cravat, "if you are very quiet, you may stay."

Gumshoe beamed. Edgeworth felt oddly warm at the joy evidenced in Gumshoe's smile, and turned back to his books and files.

Gumshoe was surprisingly quiet all day, and even helped Edgeworth by sneaking out and retrieving a few books from the main library. Edgeworth found he almost appreciated the company. Evening rolled around, and the courthouse closed down. Edgeworth packed up his things and prepared to leave.

He paused, one hand on the door knob.

"You know," he said to Gumshoe, half-turning, "I do have a couch you could make use of--"

Gumshoe flushed and scratched at the back of his head. Edgeworth braced himself for one of Gumshoe's embarrasingly effusive displays of gratitude.

"Oh," Gumshoe said, "Uh, well, actually. I, uh, uh..." He brightened to a brick red.

Edgeworth scowled. "Yes?" He dragged out the final 's'.

Gumshoe swallowed. "I, uh, made that up. Mr. Wright _did_ tell me to follow you. He wanted to surprise you with some kind of singing telegram thingie? But, um. I couldn't, sir. After seeing your face this morning. I thought you might like peace and quiet better, so I didn't call him to tell him where you were."

It was Edgeworth's turn to flush. "Oh," he said, quietly. "Thank you, detective."

"You're welcome, sir!" Gumshoe beamed. "And ha--"

Edgeworth held up a finger. "Don't." More kindly, he added, "Please. It's been the perfect... day." He managed a slight, soft smile.

Gumshoe grinned lopsidedly and nodded. "Goodnight, Mr. Edgeworth."

"Goodnight, Detective Gumshoe."

As Edgeworth walked to his car, undiscovered and unmolested by happy-birthday-spouting acquaintances, he thought perhaps that if all birthdays could be like this one, he might be convinced to like them, just a little.


End file.
